NEW ORLEANS—The worst part, the absolute worst part in the aftermath of an event so personal, was that it deepened the pain of a relationship that was never personal enough.

And can never be again.

The man who is all things for everyone wasn’t everything he wanted to be for one so close to his heart.

“I have regrets,” Les Miles says. “Great regrets.”

The police report says Ann Brown died last April when her car was hit by a pickup truck around high noon at a notoriously dangerous intersection. For years, those in Zachary, La., have complained about the corner of Sugar Mill Plantation Parkway and Louisiana State Road 1.

This time it took the life of Ann, Les Miles’ younger sister.

Two weeks after the end of spring practice at LSU, after Miles’ seventh team in Baton Rouge finished preparation for fall camp with a chemistry and confidence like no other Miles team, the loss of Brown, 54, was the first—and most crushing—pause of perspective in a year full of distractions.

Of all the problems and all the issues this team has faced—prior to the season, during the season, on the field, off the field—none had more of an impact on Miles than the death of a sister he never knew as well as he wanted to.

It has taken nearly eight months for Miles to talk about it. It will take even longer for him to come to grips with the loss of a second chance.

Ann lived 10 miles south of Baton Rouge for years, a single mother raising two daughters—a mother whose No. 1 goal was to see her daughters graduate from college.

“In the last several years, I had not had a great, regular, consistent meet up and enjoy family time with her,” Miles said. “That was something I’ve had to deal with. I was fortunate to have a relationship, a significant relationship, with her. But I wanted more.”

Want to know why this season of obstacles and adversity hasn’t fazed this LSU team? Want to know why the Tigers have persevered through it all; through circumstances many teams would wilt under?

It all filters from the man who has swallowed this burden for months now. Choking it back through the spring and summer time he so enjoys while watching his son Manny play baseball for an AAU traveling team.

Hiding it while traveling to watch his daughter Kathryn—who has Olympic aspirations—swim in national meets; or while hosting an annual event with his wife, Kathy, that raises nearly $100,000 for the Children’s Miracle Network.

Few coaches in this grind-it-out, sleep-in-the-office profession value family like Miles. That’s what made the life-changing event of April 22, 2011 such a personal paradox.

The man who places high value on relationships; who has made friends with Snoop Dog and dances to Soulja Boy with his team in the locker room; who put his arm around beleaguered quarterback Jarrett Lee after starter Jordan Jefferson’s arrest two weeks before the season opener, and calmly told Lee, ‘You’re going to have the best season of your career—and we’re going to win with you’ wasn’t the brother he wanted to be.

Miles found perspective again through tragedy. His team then learned it month after month during this complex championship run.

“Life throws you curveballs when you least expect it,” says LSU defensive end Sam Montgomery. “And sometimes, it beans you with a fastball right in the head.”

We’re all obsessed and consumed by what’s in front instead of what’s on the periphery. By chasing the goal, by searching for the answer, by tackling the task.

And the next thing we know, what’s important is lost or overlooked or underappreciated at a dusty, dangerous intersection.

Or at the corner of what is and what should be.

“I know he was hurting,” said LSU wideout Russell Shepard. “He means so much to me, to everyone on this team. It’s so much more than a player-coach relationship. It’s life, you know?”

Not long after the BCS National Championship media day ended at the Superdome, after the LSU team lined up at the 50-yard line to take a team picture and after Miles kept his coaches for one last photo of the men who built this team, Miles talked about his personal demons.

He said his sister’s daughters are on track; one in college at Southeastern Louisiana and one prepared to enroll at Georgia next fall. His younger brother Eric has moved to Zachary to help the girls, and the support system in and around Baton Rouge has been overwhelming.

“The hardest part is I never got a chance to call her,” Miles said. “To tell her things I wanted to.”

Just then, the LSU football operations coach interrupted and said, “five minutes to start of practice.”